


Truth and Triumph

by Spyglassflower



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst, Awkward Romance, Drama & Romance, Multi, Regency Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 16:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spyglassflower/pseuds/Spyglassflower
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet has always sworn that only the deepest love will persuade her into matrimony. But with her father gravely ill, and a future with the darkest prospects, marrying the serious Mr. Darcy might be the only alternative if she is save her family from absolute destitution.*Warning* Rating might go up as we move along(because you know... smut and stuff), but no worries i will make sure to tell you.





	1. Chapter 1 - It begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birth takes place at Longbourn, and a farewell at Pemberley.  
> *Notes and warnings at the end

Chapter 1

It's still the same old story  
A fight for love and glory  
A case of do or die.  
The world will always welcome lovers  
As time goes by  
\- Casablanca, Herman Hupfeld, 1931  
5\. Nov. 1803

Elizabeth Bennet had never as a child considered herself poor. Why should she. She had always known, that there were many people who were richer, people who lived in bigger houses and who had more horses and fine carriages than her family did. That didn’t bother her at all, she had everything that mattered, and her farther had never been prevented from giving her the things she truly needed. Though she never cared as much as her sisters did for fine clothes and pretty ribbons, she always appreciated being well dressed when they visited their friends and family. She liked been able to buy new books and loved seen the sweet smile on her younger sisters faces when they were giving a new colorful dull. She liked that she could buy nuts and raisins, which she often shared with her friend Charlotte and older sister Jane. Growing up, money was never a course for serious concern, at least not in the most fragile of her younger years and as she happily roamed the fields around her home, Elizabeth Bennet thought herself to a fortunate girl, to have home, a family, and no worries for her future.

Elizabeth was too young to remember the birth of her sister Mary very well, since she was less than four at that time, but the birth of Kitty she did. And now it was time for yet another baby to be born.

She and Jane was not allowed downstairs, but as the time seemed to move at the slowest pace is possibly could, they joined their father on the staircase, in the entrance hall. They waited together in silence, as the smoke from her father’s pipe slowly despaired in the cold autumn air. Kitty who had just turned two the previous week, was sound asleep in the nursing room with Mary who, despite her being almost four years old, was very dutiful when it came to napping, and sometimes even insisted that her older sisters should join her as well. All the staff, who was not in some way assisting the birth, was busying themselves elsewhere, confident in the belief that their mistress would be able to give birth to yet another baby without any serious complications, as she had done four times before.  
After a few hours of her mother’s screaming and hissing accompanied by the huskier voice of the midwife and the calm mumbling voice of Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, there was silence, and then nothing.  
Time stood still, were the baby perhaps a still born? Oh, the horror on their father’s face. 

Then the loud cries of her mother. Her fathers rushed into the room, and for a long moment Elizabeth and Jane were overwhelmed by anxiety. Jane caught a tight hold unto her younger sister’s hand as they heard footsteps quickly moving towards the door. The door opened and revealed their father clasping a tiny body swiped in white cloth. 

“She is well girls, please don’t worry. Come and say hello to your new sister”.

It was hard for Elizabeth and Jane to focus on the small face, gently wrapped in white cloth, while their mother was still airing her frustration, and apparently, grief over having delivered yet another healthy, baby girl. Their sisters face, though serene and peaceful, had all sort of strange colours; red, purple and even blue – not at all like an adult, not even like a child!  
At first Jane was a bit apprehensive and thought that perhaps the baby should be seen by a doctor since it had such strange and vivid colours. Elizabeth reasoned with her sister and said that if the midwife hadn’t found any fault in the baby, it must be healthy enough. Also the baby was still so young it had plenty of time to grow out of it’s strange colouring and if not it would be fun to have a baby sister with a red, purple and blue skin tone.  
Jane and Elizabeth quickly agreed that despite her colours, she looked like Kitty and perhaps a bit like their Aunt Phillips – her cheeks being large and full, and her hair dark and perhaps a bit curly.

“Marvelous observations – however I must inform you both, especially you Lizzie, that even you had cheeks like this when you were less than an hour old. In fact, I think she looks a lot like Lizzie – though her wonderful carefree expression reminds me of Jane and Kitty. 

After some minutes, their farther grew tired of their mother’s loud outburst and raised from the staircase. Still with his newborn baby daughter in his calm arms, he said to his oldest children with a hoarse voice. 

“I think it is time for you girls to go upstairs again, I will call when your mother is ready to see you”. 

Even as very young child Jane was well-behaved, and she flew up the stairs, once she was there she gave Lizzie a very pointy stare, which Elizabeth answered with a subtle rubbing of her stomach and a mouthing “Kitchen” as she flew around the corner. Jane gave her a long stare but seemed to have been convinced and despaired down the hallway towards the nursery. Elizabeth only stayed there a few moments, before grapping her oldest shawl sneaking out the front door and running around the house. On the backside of the house, she walked along the house wall, careful not make too much noise, until she was right under her mother’s bedchamber window. Hiding in the shade under the ungroomed wilderness of once well-trimmed bushes and overblown peonies, she found a comfortable seat on the old rocks of the house foundation.

From the window, she could her father’s voice.

“But look at her Fanny please! She is a darling, with all her tiny fingers. And all that hair, all that beautiful dark hair – she looks so much like Elizabeth did, though her cheeks are a little rounder, much like your sister don’t you think?”

“Mr. Bennet do not humiliate me so! I know you only talk in this way to mock me, I know she lacks one crucial thing, and her pretty face and dark hair can never make up for it” her mother said with a shaky voice.

Elizabeth felt confused and scared, she was used to her mother’s emotional outburst, yet there was a special kind of bitterness and almost resentment in the way she talked of her newborn daughter, which made her insides feel as if she had swallowed several dices of ice, which where now grinding mercilessly against each other in her in her stomach.

“And, may I be so bold to ask Mrs. Bennet, what is this crucial thing she lacks in your opinion. I seem not to be able to comprehend your meaning?” Mr. Bennet’s voice was relaxed, yet chilly.  
Elizabeth looked up towards the pale grey autumn sky, her shallow breath despaired up into the air, became one with the sky. She tried to wrap her shawl tighter around her, but her fingers was suddenly unable to perform this duty, which they had done thousand times before. 

“YOU! You are a cruel man Mr. Bennet, you stand here in front of your wife, who have suffered for months and just delivered you a healthy baby and yet you mock me with my failure. How unfeeling of you, what a disgrace to have such a husband”

“ Argh at least you agree, that I here in my arms hold a healthy baby girl, which you with all your grace have delivered to me. Yet you seem to fault yourself, as if you have made a mistake in doing so, tell me, do I understand you correctly. Do you sincerely believe, that you have failed me, and that I therefore mock you, because you have delivered this baby girl?” 

“Yes, you understand me correctly sir” Mrs. Bennet’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Then let me first correct this misunderstanding, I do not mock you because you have giving me ANOTHER beautiful baby. In fact I am not trying to mock you at all, it is as you said so yourself, a disgraceful act especially if a husband does it, mere minutes after his wife has giving him yet another child. She is perfect, she really is dearest Mrs. Bennet; so please tell me, how that is a failure. I can’t find seem to find your reason to think it is one anywhere.” Mr. Bennet said calmly.

Had Elizabeth been in the room with her parents, she would have seen the perfect example of astonishment on her mother’s face, nonetheless being unable to see, Elizabeth understood this prolonged silence as awkward pause in her parents confusing and disturbing conversation. One minute their voices were sharp and cutting each other down, the next, caring and friendly. 

“I.. but Thomas, she is a girl. Another girl” sobbing, and by the sounds of it, blowing her nose.

“Yes she is Fanny,” Mr. Bennet said is a matter of fact like manner.

“But she should have been a son, just like the four before her. If just…” here Mrs. Bennet’s voice lost its force and she surrendered to a series of sobs before she continued. “We need a son, or else, some day, when you are gone, our girls will be without a penny and without a HOME”.

“Mrs. Bennet is this really what is occupying your mind this day of your fifth daughter’s birth? What will become of her in perhaps 15,16 or 25 years?” Mr. Bennet footsteps could be heard as he walked across the creaking bedroom floor.

“It is!” Mrs. Bennet said sharply. “And, it should be your sincere concern as well! What will you do to protect your daughter’s wellbeing after you are dead?” Mrs. Bennet’s voice had again rising to its usual level. Which were quite high. 

“What will I do? What can a man do, when his body is buried and his soul been uplifted to the heavens? Not much I would say, not much at all” Mr. Bennet answered with a light chuckle.

“Pfff that is so typical of you Thomas – always making fun of serious business, never taking my humble feelings into account, one day you will regret not trying as I have and will, to protect our girls” Mrs. Bennet said with a huff.

Elizabeth was beginning to feel the cold wind through her shawl. The ice in her stomach had stop churning but she did not like the way her parents spoke to each other. She was used to their constant nagging, but that was usually over small things. She looked around in the garden, small as it was with its common unspectacular flowers and small weather-beaten statues. It was hers, it belonged to her and her family. Was somebody, a stranger, one day to have it all? 

As she calmly went up the stairs she thought perhaps it might have been better, if her sister had been a brother. Then he could have grown up and helped her father in managing the estate. Yes, and somehow, she felt, her mother would also have been very happy to have a son. A picture of a striking young man, tall with dark curly hair walking down the street of Meryton sprang into her mind. Yes, such a young man would quickly win her mother’s affections. She could easily imagine her mother walking down the street with him, stopping when meeting one of her friends, smiling at them, while her precious son stood by her, waiting with patience; the perfect picture of a promising young gentleman. She thought for a moment that it might be nice for her and her sister as well to have brother, but another sister would have to do, she only hoped that her new sister would be fun and lively to play with.  
EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD - EB - FD  
His feet were like drumsticks as he ran down the hallway. Oh, how foolish it had been of him to wander so far away, he knew it was risky. But it had been so nice, the weather had been so cold and clear this morning. He didn’t know… he couldn’t have known that today was the day! As he rounded the last corner, almost slipping on the silky floor, he sends a silent prayer that he wasn’t too late. He stops the last second before hitting the door. For a moment, he just stands there, dreading what might be found on the other side. He can feel sweat running down his neck, to run halfway through the park was not an easy task, not even with young, long legs like his. He can feel his head spinning and he turns the handle.

His mother’s bedroom is full of light. All the curtains have been drawn back and there is a mighty fire burning in the fireplace.  
His farther is sitting in his usual chair, and as always it is drawn up close her bed. 

“William, is that you?” the sound of his mother voice comforted him and made him shiver. It was so low and weak.

“Yes, mother” he answered. 

His farther turned, he looked relieved when he saw him – Fitzwilliam couldn’t tell if there was a quiet reprimand in his eyes, or if it was all tiredness. His farther stood, moving so that he to take his place, he kissed his mother’s hand and left without a word.  
He sat down, he saw his mother quietly communicating with his farther – they had always done this, a single look from them both could say more than a whole conversation. Unsure of what was expected from him, he sat down – normally his father was always here, or he was here with Georgiana. Would his mother scold him for his tardiness? 

“Did you have a nice walk in park?”

“Yes, yes it was quite nice – the winter aconites are in full bloom now, down by the eastside stream, you know right after the Hunters lane.” He felt like he was babbling.

“Yes, I know the spot, I picked many flowers there in the first years your fathers and my marriage” she said with a teasing smile.

The both fall quiet for a moment.

“William, you know there is a reason, I like you, don’t walk around our park all day?” Her tone was light but serious. 

“Yes – it is because you are ill” he felt his heart throb in his chest.

“Exactly. It is not something we have talk much about you and I, but I feel like this is the right time, would that be acceptable to you? It is completely comprehensible if you don’t, this is for you, I do wish to talk with you about it with you I must admit, but I will not be selfish and force you to listen to me, if you do not wish it”. Her voice was still light, but small crinkle had formed between her eyes. 

“No…eh sorry, I mean yes, it would be fine” he said, his heart still beating erratic in his chest. 

She smiled at him, surveying his face, perhaps trying to detect whether he was doing this for her sake, but he held her gaze steadily. 

“My health has always been fragile, when I were your age, I seldom went to play outside to play. When I began entering early twenties however, my health began to improve quite miraculously – my parents had worried that I would never have a health that allowed me to marry, but just when I came to the right age, my health seemed to have forgone its past tendencies. Of cause, you know the story of how your father and met…”.

She paused, William blushed – somehow even the mentioning of that story could make him feel embarrassed, she kindly ignored him and continued.

“Well, we married and I moved here to Pemberley. Against my parents wish I had told your father about my past health problems, they feared he would change his mind perhaps. I also told your father that I might not be able to have children – he was, like I, saddened by this, but we were both determined to live happily together.” She smiled, but William couldn’t help but feel a little left out, like she was smiling at something beyond him, something he couldn’t understand.

“After a few years, I became pregnant – your father and I were both ecstatic. During my pregnancy, my health quickly became worse, your father were quite worried I tell you. You know the tiny crinkle he gets between his eyes when he tries to figure something complicated out?”

“Yes” He smiled, it is the face his father wears, when William knows that he is winning over him in chess, something his father never favored much.

“Well, he was wearing the expression for 6 months straight – so you can imagine. The birth was hard, as they often are, but as soon as I held you in my arms, I knew I would do it a thousand times over” She smiled at him and he felt a warm tickle down his spine. William had never doubted his mother’s love and affection, but to have her tell him so plainly and without the any shyness or reservation, touched him deeply and he felt the warmth of tears in his eyes.

Sensing his emotions, she took his right hand.

“Your father was resolute that you were to be our only child. And for many we both thought you were a kind of miracle. Following your birth, my health started behaving in its old menacing patterns. I had a cold that took months and not weeks to recover from, headaches and other problems started occurring increasingly. When I became pregnant with Georgiana, my heart swelled with joy, but I also knew that the price for giving life to her would be high – alas it was not as high as I feared”, William wondered only for a moment what she meant by this, and when he realized, felt his entire body stiffen as a dull ache wrapped itself around his heart.

She squished his hand. “I have been grateful for the years I shared with your father. I have been blessed with you. To see you grow, to see how strong, healthy and goodhearted you are – how you respect your father and dote on your sister. I have been very lucky to have such love in my life, such fine men” For the first time ever, William felt his mother’s voice break over, fumbling he caught he fingers between his own.

“The only regret I have, is the things I won’t be a part of. Especially Gigi, I fear she will not even remember me as she grows older. There are so many things I will not be able to give her. I love your father with all my heart, but he is only human, he will perhaps not be able to show love without reservation…” She turned her eyes away from the fireplace and looked him straight in the eyes.

“What I want you to know Will and most importantly what I want you to remember is, that having been giving you and Gigi are the greatest gift I have ever received. I never expected much – but I was giving so much and for that I will be forever thankful. My love you are so young, but I must ask you this of you. Protect and love Georgiana as much as you can in the years to come. I know that if I hadn’t giving birth to her, my life would perhaps have been longer, but there are no certainties with people like me. But I know that Georgiana will be by your side for many years to come – I hope you two will be for each other what I cannot. Love and happiness are fragile things, one moment they are yours and you can’t even comprehend that they will ever leave you. Cherish them and hold the close with both hands, don’t push them away because some voice tells you that you don’t deserve them” Her voice broke again and he could bear it no longer. He left his chair and threw himself and the edge of the bed, crying inconsolably. His mother’s hands carefully combed his hair and held him as tight as she could.

5 days after Anne Wilhelmina Darcy passed away. William was in the nursing room, playing with Georgiana when Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, calmly asked them to follow her. Everything were so quiet, it was like all the footmen and servants had left without warning. The last kiss his mother placed on his face was like a cold spring wind. Georgiana didn’t seem to understand what was going on. She smiled when her mother kissed her face, and hugged her brother tightly when he carried her away from the bed, to let their parents say their last goodbyes. But when their father finally left their mothers bedside and hugged them both tightly, William could feel her warm tears stream down his neck. The dull ache in his heart exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously don't own PnP.  
> This is just the beginning, of what i hope will be a rather long but thrilling story.  
> This is my first fanfic so please, please be kind in your criticism.   
> I would absolutely LOVE to hear what you think, so don't hold back though!
> 
> Love and hugs  
> K


	2. Foturna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvest Ball in Meryton.  
> A young man writes a poem.

September 1813

The annual Harvest ball in Meryton was a special occasion for the Bennet family. It was the first time that their second oldest daughter Elizabeth, who had just turned fifteen, were being introduced to the general society of Meryton. 

Though Meryton was not more than a common English small town, with all the petty competition and gossipmongers that ensues, the gentry here was not as ill-mannered nor as inattentive as to not pay the Bennet’s and their daughter their respects on the occasion.

Another circumstance that drove many mercenary mothers in Meryton to be attentive to the young miss and her family, were the opportunity to investigate whether the younger miss Bennet was as beautiful as the older sister. The older miss Bennet had since her introduction two years prior, made herself known as uncommonly beautiful and well-mannered. Many mothers therefor now saw their own daughters being overlooked repeatedly at the assembly hall or at private gatherings in favor of the pretty Miss Bennet. The flow of new acquaintances, especially young single men, were and had always been rather slow in Meryton, therefore making rivalry common. 

The Bennet family constantly found themselves under the scrutiny eye of the local mothers throughout the evening. All of this led to much annoyance of the father and a delighted yet nervous joy of the mother. Miss Elizabeth found the constant flow of introductions rather ridiculous and unnecessary since there was almost not a face in the assembly that she hadn’t known since her infancy. 

The judgment of the young miss was of a rather mixed composition. In direct comparison with her older sister, she was found a bit lacking; her complexion was not a bright and her hair and eyes were dark, where her sisters were blond and blue – which was generally considered more favorable. However, most mothers had to amid, that though her eyes were dark, they were also large with an uncommon glow about them, that many gentlemen would find hard to ignore. Her face was mostly symmetrical, and her hair a rich ebony color with natural curls that fitted the present fashion standards well. Her manners were pleasant and engaging, she was not as shy as her older sister, but not brash as her mother. Her mind seemed unusually quick, which most often was shown by the quickness of her tongue. However, she lacked the cynicism that many found appalling in her father, who otherwise were considered an intelligent and well-read man, though he was not known to be overly fond of social activities. 

It was well into the evening when the family was introduced to Mr. Callahan who was staying with a distant relative, who was an acquaintance of the Bennet family. He was a pleasant young man, with a mild expression and gallant manners. When introduced to the sisters and giving knowledge about the special occasion for the younger, he immediately asked both for a set, which he was granted. He engaged the whole family in conversation until the first set were announced upon which he led the older sister to the dancefloor, the first set of the younger reserved as it was by tradition to her father. The first set went by outwardly uneventful, and Jane was escorted back to her family, where she was then led directly back onto the dancefloor by her next partner inline and Elizabeth were led back to the floor by the pleasant Mr. Callahan. 

He was a polite young man, well-mannered in every way, but upon later recollection, Elizabeth could hardly find a cause that justified her slight dislike of the man. His conversation was light, but not emptyheaded, yet she felt slightly uneasy in his company. Much later she would reflect, that though they spoke only of polite and appropriate things, it was the strange fact that Mr. Callahan somehow managed to turn the conversation to involve her older sister in some way odd and perhaps a bit alarming.  
When he returned to her family, his attention was quickly turned to Jane to much joy for their mother, and much bewilderment for the two young girls. Stepping nervously side to side, he blushingly asked if Miss Bennet would dance another set with him. The joy of their mother was almost incomparable to anything else, Mr. Bennet seemed to remain ignorant to the whole spectacle, and Jane, who had said nothing and blushed most profusely at the sudden attention, was then again led to the dancefloor by the gallant Mr. Callahan, while Elizabeth was led onto the dancefloor by another young man from the neighborhood.

The dance went by uneventful on the dancefloor, but the talk around it reached uncommon heights. After returning Jane to her family, the young gentleman stayed close to the family all evening, so close in fact that it was commented that he was being quite neglectful to his host family who had kindly brought him along with them that evening. Before the evening had ended, Mr. Callahan had been invited, along with his host family obviously, to tea at Longbourn.

Mr. Callahan visited with his host family, and the following week the Bennet were invited to tea. The week after the Mrs. Bennet hosted a dinner party with Mr. Callahan as the, unofficial, guest of honor. Within a fortnight the romance between the young Miss Bennet and the gallant Mr. Callahan were the talk of every dining room in Meryton. Elizabeth observed it all with as much enthusiasm she could muster. Though Mr. Callahan was polite, intelligent, and clearly very taken with her sister, he left a feeling of uneasiness. He was very talkative, perhaps a bit too fond of listening to his own voice and Elizabeth found it quite arrogant to so amused by his own stories. Also, there was a certain jumpiness to his manner she noticed. Whenever something amused or angered him a lot, he would almost jump up and down from his seat on the settee in spasmed of laughter or angry outburst. The curious thing was, that it was quite unpredictable whether he would react one way or another. Jane seemed somewhat unwilling to share her thoughts about Mr. Callahan.

“He is a kind and pleasant sort of man” Jane would say and leave to pick up her chemise from the maid downstairs.

“He is very well mannered” she would say, smile and continue stitching the hem on her new bonnet. 

Not a word of reproach, only kind words left her lips but Elizabeth never felt entirely convinced that Jane really meant what she said. Not that she would ever lie, no nothing would be further away from Janes character than lying. If she said Mr. Callahan was kind, she properly thought he was – but whether her words were a testimony profound affection for Mr. Callahan, Elizabeth was doubtful.

As the residents at Longbourn became and better acquainted with Mr. Callahan, the family and staff’s attitude towards him seemed to adapt to his unusual behavior. This applied to all excluding the two youngest children, Kitty and Lydia. Because of their age, they were not allowed downstairs, so whenever Mr. Callahan was present, they were sent to the nursery accompanied by the youngest maid. Both girls was very unsatisfied by this and therefore remained annoyed with Mr. Callahan throughout the entirety of their non-acquaintance with him. 

Mr. Bennet, who was as distant and uninterested as ever in engaging in a social arrangement, made sure to greet Mr. Callahan with utmost politeness upon his arrival, before making an, albeit polite, excuse and leave for his library. 

The Middle child, Mary, became quite scared of the young master, during one of his visits. She therefore became quite good a simply disappearing during his calls. Mary had accidentally spilled tea on his sleeve when trying to retrieve a biscuit, which caused Mr. Callahan to jump from his seat and scold her most profoundly. Elizabeth and Jane both felt terribly sorry for Mary, her small were shaking and tears were filling up her eyes. 

Mrs. Bennet became greatly distressed over the situation and seemed unable to do anything. That was until Jane tried to smooth things over and Mr. Callahan turned his rage to her. But before he could say anything, Mrs. Bennet stood up and started scolding Mary even more profusely and with so much force that it made thick hot tears roll down Mary’s cheeks. 

Mr. Callahan seemed so overwhelmed by this that he quite forgot his own anger. And by the time Mrs. Bennet, quite unfairly, had made Mary apologize and send her to her room, Mr. Callahan had returned to his usual mild temper. Mr. Callahan’s visit had ended soon after. 

The following day, Mrs. Bennet took Mary to the small music store in Meryton and brought her 3 new pieces of music.

Mrs. Bennet’s general approach when dealing with Mr. Callahan was a bit odd to her daughters. Her normal temper was enthusiastic but a bit fretful and anxious, so they expected that put together with Mr. Callahan she would be even more so. Oddly enough, Mr. Callahan seemed to calm her nerves like nothing else. Only her constant fussing and complaining over the staff seemed to match her usual temperament.

And Jane. Well, Jane was like always; kind and gentle. Her happy and gentle attitude seemed to be the best cure for Mr. Callahan’s emotional outbursts. She didn’t say much during his visits but remained an attentive listener, who would ask intelligent and sensible questions to his many tales and anecdotes. Her smile was the sun that conquered the darkness in his soul. Or so he claimed in a very emotional, but rather simple and ill-executed poem. Said poem was recited at a dinner, 4 weeks after the Harvest Ball. 

3 days after, Mr. Callahan was to call again. Perhaps Mrs. Bennet had felt too secure in Mr. Callahan’s infatuation with her oldest daughter, that she for ones had let her tight control with her household slip a bit. She had watched Mary perform a new music piece, instead of checking up on maids cleaning of the drawing room. She had braided her youngest daughter’s hair instead of making Mrs. Hill go over larder and shopping list with her. She had slipped into her husband’s study to speak with him privately, instead of making sure that Elizabeth was home when Mr. Callahan was to visit. 

Perhaps it was a coincidence, perhaps not – never the less, Mr. Callahan’s call that day, were an absolute disaster from first to last. Firstly, Elizabeth wasn’t home. Mrs. Bennet therefor had to abandon her plan of making Elizabeth leaving the drawing room under some innocent cover. A few minutes after she would also remove herself from the drawing-room under the cover of urgent business with Mrs. Hill, and in that way leaving the young pair alone.  
But sadly, Elizabeth was nowhere to be found, and she dared not rely on Mary. Therefore, only Mrs. Bennet and Jane stood ready when Mr. Callahan called on the residents of Longbourn. 

Less than 5 minutes after having been seated in the drawing, Mr. Callahan started sneezing so violently, that Mrs. Bennet had to suggest that the trio removed to the dining room. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to make Jane, a bit quieter than usual which in turn made Mr. Callahan annoyed and petulant.  
Desperate to lighten to mood, Mrs. Bennet tried to draw out Mr. Callahan by inquiring to his relatives. At first, he seemed to remain quite petulant, but suddenly he remembered an amusing incident that had happened that morning, involving his host family’s youngest child. While listening to this, Mrs. Bennet did her best to coax Jane out of her shell. When the tale ended, the mood had lightened so much that she felt confident enough to suggest that Mary should be retrieved so that she could perform for them all. 

Without waiting for the answer, she left the room abruptly, leaving Jane and Mr. Callahan alone. Mrs. Bennet quickly found Mary, and instructed her to immediately find her music sheet, with the most romantic pieces she had, and go play in the dining room directly.  
Mary had become quite scared that her mother would scold her again since the first incident with Mr. Callahan, so she ran directly up to her room, to fetch what she thought was the most romantic piece of music she owned.

Before Mary returned, however, Mrs. Hill approached Mrs. Bennet with a minor problem. It would seem, that the maid who had been sent shopping today, had forgotten to buy the finer tea that was served to guest and the family at tea time. So currently the Longbourn household only had the coarse, bitter tea leaves, which were usually drunken by the staff. Mrs. Bennet flung herself down the kitchen stairs, followed by a surprised Mrs. Hill, to search the kitchen herself.

While Mrs. Bennet, were creating chaos and stress among the kitchen staff, Mary entered the dining room at a fast pace. She only stopped a moment to curtsy politely in front of Mr. Callahan before she placed her music sheets on the pianoforte and became playing. 

Said gentleman and Jane had waited for Mrs. Bennet to return in an awkward silence. Mr. Callahan had tried to initiate a conversation between them. But Jane was painfully shy, and the tone he used when he spoke was so intimate, that she couldn’t even bring herself to answer. 

The silence was no more, however, the romantic song of Mary choosing were a loud and dramatic ballade, played with more enthusiasm than skill. Mary had felt terribly sorry about the incident with Mr. Callahan, she wanted her sister to be happy, even though she found Mr. Callahan very frightening. All the love she felt for her sister, she poured into the song.

At first, Mr. Callahan seemed to take the comic display with a sense of humor. But after a short while, the noise seemingly became so distressing for him, that he stood up.

“I apologize Miss Bennet, I didn’t believe my visit today would become such an elongated affair. I must be somewhere else in a short while. I terribly sorry, but I believe it is time for me to leave…” he said.

Before he could leave however Mrs. Bennet entered with Mrs. Hill, who was carrying an enormous tray filled with tea, biscuits, and other things.

“MR. CALLAHAN!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “You are not leaving, are you?! you promised to have tea with us this afternoon. I’m sorry, the tea was a bit delayed, the kitchen staff was a bit confused. A Mistress of a house such a Longbourn must always be on her toes. Don’t worry, Jane knows this, I have trained her myself since she was a little girl – you will not find a single woman in all of Kent, who knows more about how to behave and order staff!” Mrs. Bennet continued to brag about her daughter while Mrs. Hill hurriedly placed teacups and cakes on the table.

Jane blushed profoundly, and dearly wished that her mother would crease her speech and let Mr. Callahan leave. Instead, Mrs. Bennet, grab his arm, and with surprising strength, forced him to sit down at the table. 

“Yes, just like that. This is much better. Don’t worry I will serve the tea – three sugars and milk I believe for you Mr. Callahan?” she said, while quickly preparing the tea.  
“No, please Mrs. Bennet, no milk – just one sugar. NO please, Madame...” Mr. Callahan’s protest went on unnoticed.  
Meanwhile Mary had ended her first song and had begun on the next. This song, which was like first in style and volume, also involved her singing, and though she had a rather nice voice, her lack of proper training made for a less than pleasant result.

A cup of scalding hot and milky tea was pressed into Mr. Callahan’s hand.

“Here, try one of Mrs. Hill’s famous biscuits!” caught in the whirlwind that was Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Callahan took a biscuit.

“Finally, here we are! There you go Jane” Mrs. Bennet passed Jane a cup, which she meekly took. 

Mr. Callahan ate his biscuit hurriedly, it was evident to Jane, that he hadn’t given up on leaving Longbourn as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Mr. Callahan ate too quickly and ended up coughing violently, this resulted in him drowning his tea. His tea, however, was still scalding hot, so he burned his tongue and throat viciously and with an uproar, he sprang from his seat, grabbed the flower arrangement in the middle of the table, threw the flowers to the floor and drank the remaining water from the vase in large, thirsty gulps.

Mrs. Bennet ran to assist him, waving her handkerchief, at his face. 

“Oh Mr. Callahan, I am so sorry! Please allow me to assist you!” 

“BE OFF ME WOMAN!” Mr. Callahan screamed and twisted himself free from Mrs. Bennet.

He looked positively wild, his face was red from heat and rage, as he stormed towards the door. Before he reached it, it was opened from the other side be a calm but inquisitive looking Mr. Bennet. 

“NEVER! In my entire life have I been in a house full of such disturbed, tactless women!” he yelled at Mr. Bennet, looking wildly between him and Mrs. Bennet.

“Well, if my family is not to your liking Mr. Callahan, then I suggest you leave my house. Immediately.” Mr. Bennet answered calmly, carefully holding the door open.  
Mr. Callahan stormed out and never seen at Longbourn again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update has been way to long underway. The only thing iÏ can say is that between a full-time summer job, uni beginning again and life in general, I simply haven't been able to find the time.
> 
> I hope you like it.
> 
> xo  
> K


	3. Psyche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first three chapters in this story are glimpses of the young years of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy lives. Significant moments which formed our beloved hero and heroine. Later, the chapters become more thorough and detailed.  
> I hope you will enjoy this.
> 
> *WARNING* - * WARNING* - *WARNING*  
> This chapter involves descriptions of violence and abusive behavior.  
> Be safe.

Calm down

Deep breaths

And get yourself dressed instead

Of running around

And pulling on your threads

And breaking yourself up

 

If it's a broken part, replace it

If it's a broken arm, then brace it

If it's a broken heart, then face it

 

And hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

And everything will be fine

 

  * _Details in the fabric_ by Jason Mraz, 2008 “We sing, We Dance, We Steal Things”



 

The confrontation had been horrible, just as he had expected. The worst part had been writing the check with one hand while retaining a hysterical, sobbing Georgiana with the other. Though Wickham’s displeasure with finding out that she had left a note for her older brother, was already evident on her body, she was still clinging onto her feelings for Wickham and directing her anger at _him_. As he held the piece of paper towards Wickham she had screamed at his ear, cried, and fought to make him drop the paper. However, it all stopped when Wickham smirked, took the check, and left with nothing but a disgustingly charming wink in her direction. He had had to carry her into the carriage.

They had traveled most of the previous day and all night and managed to return to their townhouse in London early in the morning, even before most of the staff had been awakened. With a bit of luck, no suspicion would rise among the servants.

Fitzwilliam sat down behind his desk and rubbed his face. Undoubtedly, he managed to smear the dust and dirt even further into to his face. Luckily, she had slept must of the way, the few times she had been awake she had been beyond distraction, crying in humiliation and sorrow, apologizing, and begging for his forgiveness, which he readily gave, before she had passed out against his chest– completely exhausted.  

With a bit of _luck_ , most of the staff would believe, that Master Fitzwilliam had left in a hurry around noon, to retrieve his sister from a visit to Ramsgate. It was _lucky_ he thought, that nobody had up to see his sister tearstained face, or the dark marks forming around her wrist, and the bruising on her face. They had not seen it then, nor would they later; the staff would be told that the young miss had fallen ill at Ramsgate, hence his abrupt departure and that she would be keeping to her room and mustn’t be disturbed. Only the master, Mrs. Reynolds and her maid would be allowed within her rooms for the next fortnight. That was his decision. It had to be that way. Later they would be told Mrs. Younge had left the families services because at well-to-be relative had fallen ill and that she had decided to dedicate her time here instead.            

A knock on the door made Fitzwilliam sit up in his chair, a footman entered announcing the doctor. The doctor entered and the footman quietly shut the door.

“Ah, Doctor Courtenay, thank you for arriving so quickly, would you mind if we had a word before you go see my sister?” Fitzwilliam tried his best to keep a light tone, but the exhaustion was evident in his voice. The doctor eyed him for a moment before sitting down in the comfortable armchair across from Fitzwilliam at his desk.

“Usually I see the patient before I speak about the formalities, but if you can assure me that she is well enough to wait, then I at your disposal,” The doctor said, carefully forming each word.

“In this case, I see how don’t a few minutes will worsen her condition”.

“And what is her condition exactly?” the doctor inquired.

Had it been any other doctor, Fitzwilliam would feel angry at his impertinence. But alas he had known the doctor for almost 10 years and knew it was only a token to his professionalism and not a personal onslaught.     

“A slight bruising on her face, a little worse on her arms around her wrists. General fatigue and possible dehydration due to physical and extreme emotional exertion” Fitzwilliam answered plainly.

The doctor looked surprised at his plain and informative answer, giving with what could have been understood as insensitivity but the doctor knew the young master better that so he composed himself in a matter of seconds.

“If you already know her diagnosis, I am surprised to why you need a doctor?”

“She has not seen a doctor yet, that only my own simple observations. As you can hear it is not something that needs instant attention. She is resting in her rooms while her maid and our housekeeper are attending her” Fitzwilliam paused, got up from his chair and poured himself a drink from of one the crystal carafes on the small side table. His hands were shaking slightly, something the terrified him greatly since he had never experienced it before.

The doctor noticed this, and had Fitzwilliam been facing him, he would have seen the good doctor’s face turn pale as his expression changed from serious to worried. He had known Mr. Darcy since he was nothing more than a 10-year-old boy. Despite his age, he respected him.

The doctor was not ashamed to admit that he held a rather low opinion of most young men in the young master’s social circle. Not the all were incurable hotheads. Most of them simply lived a life, that sheltered them from reality in a way, so that most never understood the consequences of their, sometimes rather foolish, actions, until much later in life. Most would grow wise with age, but this young man often behaved with a maturity of a man twice his age.

His lifestyle was a clear demonstration of this. He was never seen in bad company, never attended parties held by these vicious drunken “gentlemen’s” clubs that most young men attended. He had a rather small and closed circle of friends, most of them direct family or people who had been associated with his family for generations. He spends the largest parts of the year at his family’s estate, only living in London during the most crucial part of the season. Careful, thoughtful and serious, that was the Fitzwilliam Darcy doctor Courtenay had come to know over the years. It was a man he would never offering his services to, and to see him struggle with himself like this, weary and shocked to his core, made him shiver with uneasiness.  As Mr. Darcy turned around, however, the doctor schooled his features.

“Doctor, can I rely on your secrecy on this matter? I feel that if I am to relate to your, what has happened to my sister, I will be revealing things that I would never let anyone know outside of my closest family circle know. Indeed,” he paused and looked thoughtful “there are individuals within my family circle who I hope will never know about this, if I have any say in the matter. It is not that I don’t trust your professionalism, but the destiny of a young woman is in my hands – it would make me feel much more at ease if I knew that you wouldn’t go blabbing”

“Of course, I am here to treat a patient and nothing more. What happened beforehand is none of my business. I never reveal _anything_ information my patients, who they are, how and what they are treated for. I know that some in my profession who, like I, deal with a more… affluent clienteles, are known to be more inattentive, to whom and what they speak – but I like to see myself as far removed from that crowd as possible – both physically and mentally.” the doctor answered calmly.

“Yes, of course so do I. Please don’t take this as a personal offense” Fitzwilliam smiled gravely as dropped heavily back into his chair.

“You should in no way feel obliged to give me any details of what has caused her injuries. However, if you should like to tell me, I shall tell no soul what I see or what I hear – you have my word”. Fitzwilliam felt at ease immediately and leaned back in his chair.

“Well…” How should he relate this story? He hardly felt as he himself had understood what had happened yet. It certainly hadn’t sunken into his mind yet – if it had, he wouldn’t feel this collected.

In the end, it wasn’t that difficult to relate the story to doctor Courtenay. He was a quiet but attentive listener. He told, in as few word as possible about his past dealings with Wickham, how he had found the letter and rushed to Ramsgate, what state he had found his sister in. He told him about the check and Wickham’s glamorous exit. His sister's distress and following collapse.

“So...” he said as he swirled the last contents of his now nearly empty glass. “Though my sister has suffered some, not unserious, physical trauma, I fear that the lasting trauma might be in her mind – and her heart” He paused and turned slowly in his swivel chair and stared at the window for a few moments. The grey morning light was beginning to set he noticed.

“I know this is perhaps not a doctors area of expertise – but I wanted to warn you and ask you to be as gentle as possible in your examination” he sighed and looked at the doctor.

The doctor had leaned back in his chair and looked lost in thought before he seemed to mentally shake himself and sat up.

“Perhaps this kind of… injury is not the kind that doctors get taught to treat at school. But physical and mental injury are often linked together,” he looked thoughtful again. “Especially in cases concerning the fairer sex.” At this comment, Fitzwilliam felt a wave of nausea swipe over him.  “So,” the doctor continued “as you say, it may not be my area of so-called expertise, but I do have some experience in cases like these”

“And do you have any recommendations?” Fitzwilliam said quickly.

“It is difficult to say. What may help in one case, might create a catastrophe in another”. At this comment, Fitzwilliam exasperated loudly. The doctor paused, but then continued undaunted. “But, in the end, it comes down to the individual. You know your sister best – so you yourself really is the best cure. Stand beside her, offer her comfort and support. Most importantly don’t act indifferently and do not – and I can’t stress this enough – push this aside. Speak with her, have her express her feelings to you”

“Is that your advice? Speaking with her?” Fitzwilliam asked baffled.

“It may sound too simple to be effective, but it is more difficult than you might expect. Speaking with each other I mean” the doctor answered calmly.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Fitzwilliam said as he felt the truth of the doctor’s words.

A few politeness’s were exchanged before Fitzwilliam led the doctor to Georgiana’s rooms. The examination went swiftly and no further injuries could be added to list. Before leaving the doctor quietly informed Mrs. Reynolds what calming mixtures might be served for the young miss, in case of any aggravation of her distress.

Fitzwilliam personally led the doctor to the front door to see him off. Partly to calm any rumors, that might already be forming between the staff, but also to thank him for his services. Just before walking out the door, the doctor turned around.

“Might I offer one last advice to the ehh… predicament we discussed in the office?” the doctor asked in a low voice.

“Certainly” Fitzwilliam answered, glad that no staff except the butler were present.

“Your sister needs you, but don’t forget yourself. You cannot ease her pain by taking it all on yourself. I saw how you drank this morning…” the doctor said quickly, at his last comment Fitzwilliam lifted his eyebrows and blushed in surprise and embarrassment.

“Sir, I do not hold it against you,” the doctor quickly added. “Any man would need a drink during times such as these. But there is no escaping the present” The doctor smiled as he placed his hat on his head and shook Fitzwilliam’s hand firmed.

“If you need further assistance, you know how to reach me.” The doctor tipped his hat and exited the house.

“Yes. Thank you” despite himself, he felt smile genuinely at the doctor as he saw him despaired into the foggy London morning.

 

 

It was late in the morning before Fitzwilliam visited his sister. The early morning fog had lifted and given way a mild bright sunshine which was following through the windows. He knew that Georgiana had finished her morning toilet, with help from her maid, and eaten breakfast, but she was still laying in her bed.

He hesitated. Perhaps he should come back later? He had not prepared what he was going to say, after doctor Courtenay’s advice he had felt uplifted and had been sure that he would know what to say and do. It all seemed utterly naïve now, as he looked at his little sister, his joyful spirited little sister, curled up and silent in her bed. From the doorway, only the top of her dark blond hair was visible.

As the hesitation prolonged he felt his heartbeat fasten, what was he going to say? This was a disaster already. He went to the windows and stared out into the garden, his hand clasped behind his back.

“William? Is that you?” the weak tone in Georgiana’s voice made his hands feel clammy. I’m going to murder that bastard if I see him again he thought, no, now was not the time for anger. He had to focus on Georgiana.

“Yes,” he felt himself hesitating again, but closed his eyes for a moment and continued. “How are you?” he said as he walked over to her bed and sat down on a chair next to it.

Georgiana had sat up, her hair slightly rustled in a way that reminded him so much of a younger version of the same girl.

“I…” she stopped talking a looked around in her room. “I feel a bit better… I think” she blushed and looked away.

She looked so timid as he had never seen her before. She had always been shy with strangers, but there had always been such openness between them. After all, he had taught her to read, ride and where the best biscuits were hidden in the kitchen of Pemberley. All her childhood and most of his youth they had spent hours together every day, it was not the sort of upbringing that created distance between siblings. Yet here she sat, hiding in her room under her blanket, hiding her eyes from him and blushing.

“Georgiana, I wish to tell you…” he said slowly.

“IM SORRY WILLIAM, IM SO SORRY, I don’t know why I let him do it, I told myself that it wouldn’t be a good thing if we had to hide it from you.  I really am happy that you came, he was so…” her words came tumbling over each other, she looked absolutely miserable until finally, it ended in a series of loud, uncontrolled shameful sobs.

He quickly moved over to her bed and carefully embraced her.

“Gigi, Gigi sweetheart, I am not angry with you, do you listen to me? I am not angry” he said passionately. “I know I was.” he felt faint as he remembered how he had held her back. Perhaps some of the marks on her arms, were not the work of Wickham alone? The thought almost broke him and was evident in his voice as he continued.

” I just couldn’t understand why you would go with him, why you would _want_ him. You must forgive me, I had not yet understood that you are no longer a child” the young woman in his arms, moved out from his embrace and looked up at him. Though she looked surprised, the look in the watery eyes that met his, wasn’t one of childish innocence, but rather the interested gaze of a young person with plenty of understanding.

“I was hard on you yesterday, but it was because of him. I do not hold it against you. He is a man without honor, and he… took advantage of your trust and mislead you most crucially. You didn’t know how to look past his deceiving words. _I_ know him, I know what he has done… I should have protected you from him.”

“But you did! You removed him from our lives, I should have trusted you. I just thought I didn’t think that he was so atrocious. I thought that you had just fallen out with each other … I just didn’t… I just didn’t think” her eyes darted from left to right, her fingers wringing, clutching, and unclutching her blanket constantly, and her voice was shaking violently as she said “You must think me an imbecile. A stupid, foolish girl- ” this time it was he who interrupted her.

“No, I most certainly do not. Georgiana look at me. This is very important” he said quickly. The seconds felt like weeks until she finally looked up.

“He misused your trust most abominably. If anybody is to blame for this situation it is me. You were right, we had fallen out with each other, but over much greater and graver things than I let you know.” He reflected quietly for a moment, Georgiana seemed so focused on listening to him, that it seemed as if she had half forgotten how upset she was just a moment before.

” I never thought of explaining to you, why I had removed him from our lives. I thought… I thought I could control the situation, and you. I treated you like a child because I wanted you to be one.” He explained, taking up her smaller hand in his large one.

“Our past, all the sorrow you already had had to carry around. Forgive me, I wanted to shelter you from the grim reality. I didn’t want you to feel the disappointment and hurt I felt when I saw how Wickham carelessly turned his back on all the things and principals our and his father had taught him. The things he has done… well, now is not the time to speak of such things, but trust me one day I will give you an unedited recounting of the events that led to the break between him and our family” He raked his free hand through his hair. Explaining the guilt, were a lot harder than he thought. Though their conversation had lasted put a few minutes he already felt exhausted as if he had run through half of London.

” I can see now that I failed you. How were you to make a sound decision, when I wouldn’t allow you the knowledge you needed to make it.” he sighed deeply and looked at her, hoping desperately that she had understood him and taking his word to heart. She nodded quietly and I immediately felt relief, perhaps there really was a way of this miserable state they had landed in.

“I see the truth in your words, William. I have long yearned for you to treat less like a child. But I think I will always, or indeed for many years yet, need your guidance. I think…” she blushed again. “This is really rather embarrassing, but I think that I enjoyed having this secret from you. It made me feel important. Perhaps you should have guided me more, but I didn’t exactly let you have the chance of doing it” she said.

He nodded. He agreed with her, that her keeping a secret this large from him had indeed been wrong – on that account he would have expected her to know better, but he quickly decided that that talk could wait until another day when the whole situation was more distant. Attempting to lighting her mood he said.

“Well a nerdy older brother who spends all of his days chained to his desk is perhaps not the most inviting confidant a young girl could wish for”

She smiled and chuckled, but did laugh outright as she was prone to doing.

“Perhaps not. But I do not wish for anybody else” she said quietly. He felt his heart quench and water started filling his eyes.

“No more secrets?” she said. It sounded like a prayer.

“No more secrets” he answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a sad one I know. Sorry.
> 
> Please leave a comment - it makes me so very happy.


	4. The Netherfield Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Netherfield ball is evaluated by two of Longbourns occupants

“That insolent, haughty man!” Elizabeth said loudly as the walked into her room and began pulling out her hairpins roughly. As her hair quickly began cascading down her neck and back, while a pile of silver pins grew on her toilette table. Her sister Jane slipped quietly into her room. She moved slower than Elizabeth and carefully sat down at her own toilette table next to Elizabeth, and began removing her earrings and neckless meticulously. An especially violent movement from Elizabeth almost coursed a large pearl to spring from its place. This coursed Elizabeth to moan annoyed and dump down onto her own chair while carefully inspecting the hairpin. 

It was the only thing she had inherited from paternal grandmother, a person she had never met but who she was named after. Furthermore, it was only set of near-jewelry she owned. It would be a shame to call it real jewelry, the pins were small, and flimsily made silver with heads adorned with small almost white pearls. Only one was slightly longer than the others, and had a wreath of six smaller pearls, surrounding a gold dot. It looked like a daisy. A rich woman, a baroness perhaps, would wear these as everyday pieces – Elizabeth wore them at balls. 

It was unbroken, luckily. Placing the pins carefully back in the frayed, black velvet box she kept them in, she turned her attention to Jane. She was done removing her adornments, heirlooms from their maternal family, and had now turned her attention to her golden hair, which she was brushing with slow and careful strokes. Her eyes seemed unfocused, and she looked lost in thought. A small smile on her lips.

“I suppose I should be polite and ask if you enjoyed the evening, but I can see already what the answer will be,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“Oh, you do, do you?” Jane said and flashed her a mischievous smile. To most people, Jane was the very example of kindness and sweetness, un-sarcastic and genteel - they would be shocked to hear her make a clever remark, instead of giving a levelheaded but delightful answer. This was game she only played with Elizabeth, not to imitate her snarkier little sister, but simply because she liked playing the game and, perhaps more importantly, she knew Elizabeth loved it.

“You know I would never be so arrogant as to presume that I have the absolute knowledge that you did indeed enjoy your evening. The flush of your cheeks when you were dancing, the smile on your face when you were brushing hair – oh and the fact that you were dancing with a handsome young man who paid you every attention all evening- well they might indicate that there is some truth in what I said” Elizabeth answered with a nonchalant voice. 

“They might indicate that yes,” Jane said slowly, while she tied the end of her braid. While Elizabeth was the more eloquent one, when it came to sparring verbally, Jane was the champion of acting. Not a single muscle in her face, nor a tone in her voice indicated that this was indeed a game. 

“They might also indicate something else,” Jane said.

“Like... “Elizabeth said.

“That I spend an evening in the company of many friends and family I care for” she answered.

“Oh, but that leads us to the same conclusion – you did enjoy yourself,” Elizabeth said triumphantly. 

“Indeed, but the tendencies of your interpretation lead towards a certain kind of enjoyment which does seem farfetched with the evidence you presented” Jane stood and began untying the small buttons on the back of her dress, so she could remove it. Wordlessly Elizabeth rose to help.

“Oh. So, we have the same evidence, and the same conclusion, yet my interpretation is still false you say. Please elaborate. I fail to understand” Elizabeth said.

“Well, your interpretation leans toward a certain type of enjoyment, which people feel when they get what they wish for and are in the company of someone who… who they admire, whose attention they enjoy, someone special. You pin the whole thing down to a single individual, whilst I say the enjoyment was formed by several different contributions. Your argument is very, well, one-sided, Lizzie” Jane said.

“Oh, Jane, how well thought out your argument is,” Elizabeth said as she sat down and began brushing her hair. A moment of silence filled the room, Elizabeth thought she saw a faint smirk on Janes' lips. The quietly helped each other change into their nightgowns and as Jane blew out all the candles except the one Elizabeth had on her toilette table. 

“You spoke of enjoyment, a special kind of enjoyment, an enjoyment one feels who they are in the company of someone special. A feeling only they can produce, tell me – did you or did you not feel any of this sort of feeling?” Elizabeth said.

Jane looked away. Elizabeth smiled. “You did”, Jane looked at her, but turned around and laid down in her bed. Elizabeth was done brushing her hair and placed her hairbrush on her table. Though Jane was behind her, she could see her face reflected in her small winged mirror. 

“Perhaps,” she said quietly and looked softly up at Elizabeth.

“Oh, Jane dearest - I knew it!” Elizabeth laughed, placed the single candle on their shared bed stand and crawled into her own bed – less that foot from her sisters.  
Though the room was almost completely covered in darkness, Elizabeth could clearly her sister’s smile.

“It was clear for all to see – Mr. Bingley is completely besotted with you already,” Elizabeth said.

“Don’t say such a thing Elizabeth!” Jane chastised her the smile on her lips were still there.

“Mr. Bingley is such a gentleman and very kind – I would go as far as to say that we greatly enjoy being in each other’s company. But anybody who enjoys kind, warm and perfectly mannered company would enjoy spending time with him, at least as much as I did” Jane said calmly.

“While I completely surrender to your point that Mr. Bingley seems to be a gentleman through and through, I will say that even though I like him very much, I do not enjoy his company in the same way you do,” Elizabeth said teasingly. She laughed when she saw Janes shocked expression.

“Elizabeth Bennet crease your speech” Jane cried looking half amused half modified.

“If you had been able to see the color of your cheeks this evening and all the tender gazes aimed in your direction…” Elizabeth said and raised an arched eyebrow.

“Lizzie – stop it” Jane cried yet again blushing.

“Very well – I shall withdraw. But in all seriousness Jane – you do like him, don’t you? Please say you do – I could not bear to see such a kindhearted man disappointed” Elizabeth inquired.

Jane took a deep breath “I do - he is, I think, all a young man is ought to be”. 

The sisters smiled at each other.  
“But Lizzy, tell me now, did you enjoy yourself?” Jane said in her sweet voice. It was so typical of Jane Elizabeth thought, she could not speak about things concerning herself for more than ten minutes before feeling selfish.

“I enjoyed myself as well as can be expected when one is forced to dance with ones most ridiculous and foul-smelling cousin. If I had had to dance with him twice, I think I would have had to ask Mrs. Hill to prepare a cold compress for my poor feet” Elizabeth answered. The sisters laughed heartily together, and Elizabeth made a very entertaining impression of Mr. Collins expression when he had stepped on her toes. 

After the laughter had died down a little and Elizabeth had settled back against her pillows, Jane raised another question.  
“I’m glad you can have such fun over such a tragic situation - I would not have enjoyed being subject to Mr. Collis lack of dancing skill. But was there not a least one part of your evening you truly enjoyed”

“Well, Mr. Bingley as you know is a very adept dancer – that I did enjoy. And I would say Charlotte and I had our share of fun as well with talking and such. That was until our sister saw it fit to make a spectacle out of themselves” Elizabeth signed.

“Elizabeth, they were not truly so bad, they are just young and perhaps a bit overly enthusiastic at times – I do not think anyone paid special attention to them,” Jane said calmly.

Elizabeth bit her tongue. She dearly wanted to correct her sister, but she knew Jane was immune to criticism when it came to their younger sisters; she simply loved them too much and in a much too pure way, to put any significant into their sometimes-horrid behavior.

“Perhaps not. But I do hope father speak with them. They are too old to act in the way they do, you and I never acted in that way” Elizabeth said, that was all she could do to be diplomatic even though she didn’t feel like it.

“That is true – but we are all so different in temper. However what I really wanted to know is: how were your dance with Mr. Darcy” Jane said.  
Elizabeth was glad that Jane had felt her reluctance to speak about their sisters, however she felt even less inclined to speak about that event.

“Oh well, I should not be surprised, you are after all our mother’s daughter” She tried to make her voice light and easy.

“Not much happened, he came upon just when Mr. Collins was about to ask me for a second dance, though I don’t think much of the man I couldn’t stand the thought of tormenting my feet through another round, especially since I knew this dance was much longer. So, I went with Mr. Darcy and stood through a long dance of awkward conversation, but I will say this much: he is both arrogant and aloof, but he can dance”

“Yes, I saw. He is a fine dancer. But I do think that you judge his character too harshly, he seems to me like the kind of man who perhaps isn’t always able to be as forward with people as he would like to be” Jane said.

Again, Elizabeth felt she should hold her tongue. Jane was clever and not easily fooled in most matters, but she had in her sister’s opinion only on acute flaw; she liked everyone. Unless someone was downright cruel, they could be sure that Jane Bennet could find a nice thing to say about them. Jane had almost refused to believe that Mr. Darcy had called her less the tolerable at the ball at the assembly hall. And when Elizabeth finally had convinced her that he had said it, she had ready prepared many excuses on his behalf. Elizabeth would have been very annoyed if Jane hadn’t also been very attentive towards her and inquired about her feeling and making sure the Elizabeth didn’t feel wounded by his words. How was she to convince Jane that Mr. Darcy wasn’t like Mr. Bingley, a kind gentleman, just hiding under a shy and aloof temperament? She knew she couldn’t, so she gave in.

“I don’t Jane. Perhaps. It is hard to judge a man's character when he tries so hard to hide it away” She said and blew out the candle, indicating that she was now ready to go sleep.

“I do believe he has a kind soul. I could believe Mr. Bingley would have a close friend with a flawed character. Mr. Bingley has told me himself, that there isn’t a man on earth that he trusts as much as Mr. Darcy” Jane whispered in the dark.

“Then let us hope for Mr. Bingley's sake that Mr. Darcy is a true gentleman” Elizabeth whispered back.

“Yes… goodnight Lizzy” Jane said.

“Goodnight Janie,” Elizabeth said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update is long overdue.  
> But I promised myself when I started this story, that would write it for my own pleasure and not feel guilty, no matter how long time it takes me to update.  
> Nevertheless, i hope there is still somebody who wants to read along.  
> Please comment and kudos - it makes me so very happy
> 
> Kind regards,  
> K


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